


quiver

by theonehewaitsfor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cheating, Consensual, Dirty Talk, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, Master/Pet, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Public Blow Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Public Sex, Punishment, Smut, Spanking, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2019-11-29 01:42:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18216509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonehewaitsfor/pseuds/theonehewaitsfor
Summary: A late night encounter in the dark halls of Hogwarts has Hermione Granger on her toes as she continues about her final year as a student. Severus Snape, on the other hand, is hoping she'll get on her hands and knees for him.(hermione is of age and a consenting adult in this fic. also totally not canon compliant.)





	1. the hallway

**Author's Note:**

> sorry not sorry

Hermione Granger was breaking far too many rules. Out after dark, nowhere near the Gryffindor tower, and quite indecent.

She stood with her back against a stone column, tucked away in a secluded hall. The knee-length skirt was pulled up over her arm, revealing a pair of white knickers. Biting her lip, she stifled a moan as she massaged her throbbing nub. Just as she couldn’t bear it any longer, the young woman turned around and pressed her free hand against the stone wall to steady herself. Suddenly, a strong forearm wrapped around her waist, squeezing her to a sturdy frame. Hermione let out a gasp of pleasure, a pair of lips pressed wetly on her sensitive neck. The witch weaved her hand upwards, feeling for her boyfriend’s jaw. Spinning around, she looked up into the face of someone vastly different from her Ronald.

“Professor!” she gasped, her chest heaving.

Severus Snape looked down on the witch, the core of his dark iris’ burning scarlet. His lips were parted slightly, a slight curl to the edges. “Let me… _help,_ ” he oozed, almost purring as he turned her back around with the flip of his wrist.

Hermione clenched her eyes shut, her mind thinking of only the long fingers weaving their way down into her mons. Heated breath wrapped around her neck, Severus’ left arm smashing her tiny waist against his growing erection. She moaned at his silky fingertips massaging her clitoris, his free hand moving upwards to rip the buttons on her blouse. His chilled hand broke through the threshold of her bra, pinching her taut nipples. Hermione’s breath caught, her hips now moving in a circle against the tent of Severus’ pants. The young woman raised her hand, intertwining her fingers in his silky black hair.

“Say my name,” he commanded her, his teeth raking over her naked ear lobe. “Say... _it_.”

“Severus,” she cried softly, a chill ripping through her body as she felt herself growing close to climaxing. “Yes… Severus.”

“ _Again_.” Severus’ voice was firm against her neck, his teeth plunging into the sensitive skin.

“Oh… Severus!” She began to climb, and then broke through, crying out loudly. His hand raced up to cover her mouth, her body writhing in his grip.

“Good girl.” Severus spun the witch back around as he pulled his hand out of her knickers. The witch smoothed the skirt to conceal them, her hands shaking as she attempted to fix her blouse.

“Thank you,” she whispered, blushing. Hermione suddenly felt uncomfortable at the idea that her professor was the one that helped her achieve an orgasm.

“Thank you…?” Severus raised an eyebrow, reaching up to insert his index and middle fingers into his mouth, sucking long. Hermione watched as he enjoyed her juices, swirling his tongue around his fingers.

“Thank you, _sir_.” Hermione bit her upper lip, running her hands through her wild mess of hair.

“Now... get back... to your dormitory before I have to serve you _detention_.”


	2. class

The next day, Hermione found herself attempting to block the thoughts of the previous night. She had struggled all through Transfigurations during the morning, at lunch eating soup, and now she was seated at her desk in Professor Snape’s classroom, her legs crossed and her jaw clenched. She had repeated the events over, and over, and… over in her head. Scolding herself for even being in hallway in the first place, Hermione felt the familiar tug in her lower abdomen. Groaning, the witch looked to her right and found her boyfriend, Ron, stepping up to sit beside her.

“Where’d you get off to last night? I know you left the library, but I thought you’d be back in the common room.”

“I ended up going right into bed. This week has been quite difficult,” she uttered, placing her hand gently on the rough wool sweater on Ron’s arm.

“Ladies… and gentlemen… I expect only half of you have completed your weekend assignment. Pass your scrolls…forward.”

Professor Snape had flown from his private office, his teaching robes fluttering behind him. His low, buttery voice echoed in the cold, stone-walled room. The class obeyed his command, Hermione happily sending her rolled parchment forward, her eyes flickering from Parvati Patil up to Professor Snape. His eyes burned into hers, his nostrils flaring. He flicked his wrist as he spun around, the parchment flying across the room and landing in a neat pile on a table at the front. The professor lifted his hand, waving it over the chalkboard.

“Open your books to chapter 59.” Snape’s handwriting appeared on the board in inarticulate scribbles.

Ron glanced towards Hermione, smirking as he opened the dusty potions text. He bent his head over, whispering in her ear. “I’d like to open your legs just like this book.”

Hermione let out a small giggle, biting the corner of her lip.

“Weasley… why don’t you… delight… the rest of the class with your words to…. _Miss Granger_.”

“Uh… Erm.” Ron froze, his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. Hermione whipped her head around to face forward, her jaw jutting out with anger.

“Cat got your tongue?” Snape lifted an eyebrow as he stepped down, and then pointed his wand at Ron.

Just as the professor was about to reveal the words with a spell, Hermione interjected. “No, Professor! I’ll tell you. Ron.. Ron… He-he thanked me for helping him with the assignment.”

The lie tasted bitter coming out of her mouth, and the professor noticed it. Oh… Did he notice it. Hermione inhaled sharply, awaiting the rebuttal. But Professor Snape turned on his heels, his robes floating in the air, whipping like a flag in the wind. The witch let out a sigh of relief, swallowing heavily and giving Ron a stern look.

“Miss Granger, I will see you… _after class._ ”

Her head fell into her hands, her cheeks burning with shame. This, she thought, was not going to end well.

The class ended earlier than the witch had hoped, and she said goodbye to her friends as she stood at the front of the desks. Hermione lifted the strap of her leather school bag further up onto her shoulder, watching the last student leave the room. With a painfully loud bang, the heavy door to the classroom slammed shut.

“Come here.” Professor Snape commanded, leaning against the door frame that lined the threshold to his office.

Hermione inhaled, ordering herself not to let her knees grow weak as she approached. She was suddenly very aware of the distance between the front row of desks, up the step to his lecture area, and finally to his private space. As Hermione entered the room, she saw Severus leaning against his desk, arms crossed firmly over his chest.

“Sit.” he pointed firmly, to one of two simple wooden chairs. The witch wasn’t expecting anything grand for the professor’s office, but dining room chairs? She felt the cold material against her bare thighs beneath her skirt as she sank down. His gaze tingled over her skin, the witch intertwining her fingers and shoving her hands between her legs.

“I’m assuming you chose to… act out in class to get closer to me.” His silky voice crawled up from her ankles, giving the witch goose flesh.

“Actually, I was--”

“I did _not_ give you permission to speak.”

Hermione bit her tongue, nodding and agreeing to remain silent. Being in Professor Snape’s presence was a sensual reminder of their entanglement, causing the witch to clench her jaw further, squeezing her thighs together.

“ _Come here,_ ” he urged, reaching forward to grab Hermione’s forearm. He yanked her onto her feet, standing her straight. “Take off your knickers.”

The witch hovered within inches of the professor, her eyes locked on his. Snape lifted his chin, sneering at Hermione, which prompted her again. The witch leaned over slightly, hooking her index fingers into the sides of her navy blue lace panties. The material pooled at her feet, clad in a pair of simple black flats. The professor slowly and carefully sank to his knees, lifting her feet one at a time to pick up the lace. His elongated fingers began to trace a line from the inside of her ankle, dragging it across a highway to her knee. Professor Snape stood erect, towering over the witch. He took her panties, balling them up in his hand and put them behind him on the desk. With one swift movement, he took Hermione by the waist, spinning her around as he sat in the chair.

Hermione gasped as the professor folded her over his firm thighs. One hand tickled along her thigh, the other snaking into her curls. “Do you know what I’m going to do?”

“You’re… You’re going to spank me,” she whispered, turning her head to look up at the wizard.

“Why... am I going to spank you?’

“Because I spoke out of turn.” her cheeks flamed once more, but her lips trembled between her legs. Hermione could feel his hard cock poking her, just left of her belly button. The air had grown cooler in the room, and the witch realized her skirt was pulled up to reveal her bare bottom.

“I will punish you again, if you disobey me. Now, count.”

**WHACK.**

“One,” her voice was strained, the pain choking her. The sound of his fingers hitting her bare ass cheek folded her eyebrows inward in pleasure.

**WHACK.**

“Two,” she moaned.

  
**WHACK.**

“Three.” This time, her voice was almost non-existent, as Hermione was fighting back against the pleasure.

“Louder.” His curdled voice ordered.

It continued until she could hardly stand anymore, finishing with the rapturous 10. The witch had her eyes clamped shut, breathing heavily with an open mouth. What had once been painful, was replaced with the tender, smooth petting of the professor’s palm.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his arm reaching under her collarbone and thighs to lift and spin her around. Hermione sat in his embrace, her bare ass against the rough fabric of Professor Snape’s trousers. She was unsure of where to rest her arms, so one went in her lap, the other around his neck. The wizard took his index finger to clear a runaway curl from her face. “I want to kiss you.”

“Why?” she questioned without thinking. Her eyes grew wide, and she sucked her teeth awkwardly.

“Have you not realized?” Snape replied, standing as he carried Hermione in his arms. He threw her onto an empty spot on the edge of the desk, her skirt flying up in the air to expose her mons. “I want you. And _I get… what… I… want._ ”

He folded himself over her, taking her wrists and pinning them against the wood surface. The professor’s wet lips made contact with the base of her throat, and his tongue soon took over. He licked upwards, over the prominence of her larynx, reaching her chin. Snape pulled away from her, releasing the grip on her wrists. Hermione remained still, her legs spread and arms above her head.

“Do you want this? I cannot offer you anymore than this. I will never love you.”

“What makes you think I want love?” Hermione scoffed as she brought herself up, sitting on the edge of the desk.

“Every girl wants love. Or… the idea of it. But, I will give you... pleasure, and teach you control.”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione smoothed the plaid skirt back over her thighs, and retorted. “I think you mean to control me. Not teach me control.”

“You’re quick,” Severus remarked dryly.

“I will not allow this… _arrangement_... to interfere with my studies.” Snape chuckled, rolling his eyes at Hermione. He picked up her blue knickers from the desk, holding them beneath his nose. He inhaled heavily, his eyes fluttering open with pleasure. “And you will not take my things!”

Hermione leaned forward, attempting to snatch the lace back from Snape. She slid off the desk, clawing at his chest. Severus wrapped his arm around her dainty waist, squeezing her to him. He bent his head forward and forced his lips against hers.

“The knickers are mine. And so are… _you._ ”


	3. piece of me

Days later, on a beautiful fall Saturday, Hermione was forced to give the details of her punishment with Snape to Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Well, not all of the details. They had kept on pressing her over the last week, until she finally told them exactly what had happened: Snape had yelled at her until she was blue in the face, and then ordered her multiple detentions.

“Multiple!?” Ron roared, his mouth agape.

“That’s outrageous. Just for you protecting Ron?” Ginny interjected, slamming her palm against the table, her plate rattling. Harry gently placed his hand on hers, non-verbally silencing the witch.

“You know he despises me. He has from our first year. There’s no use in fighting it--it’ll only make matters worse.”

The Great Hall was emptying out, Ginny, Ron, and Harry leaving to go to Quidditch practice. Hermione picked up her school bag, slinging the strap over her shoulder. Ron gave her a quick peck on the cheek, then took off to catch up with the couple near the doorway. Hermione exited the hall, making her way down towards a staircase in the North Tower. The witch had her hand on the stone banister leading up to the second floor, in which the library was situated. She had planned to spend her time working on her Charms assignment, which she feared would take all day. As soon as she began to place her foot on the first step, she felt a firm grasp at her waist.

Hermione let out a small shriek as she was spun around, snatched and carried around the corner to a shadowed hallway. In the distance, the jovial conversation and laughter of other students echoed. She was placed back on the ground, a curtain of black pulling away from her.

“ _Really_?” she huffed, extending her arms upwards to adjust her springy mocha coils. The witch stood with her feet spread shoulder-wide apart, her arms straightened by her thighs with her hands in fists.

  
“I know you were expecting to spend your day with your… _nose_ …stuffed in a book. But, I thought it only...right….to give you these.” Professor Snape curled his lips upwards mischievously, a single eyebrow raised. Out of the pocket at his hip, he revealed her panties and held them up between his pinched thumb and index finger.

Hermione’s jaw dropped, and she looked around wildly. “Are you _mad_!? You choose to give them back now!?” The witch hurriedly snatched them out of his fingers, shoving them down into her bag.

“Of course. You should be thankful I’m even returning them.” Severus’ arm rolled out in front of her, his index finger curling under her chin. He tilted her face upwards, catching the dim light darting in through the hallway window. “Now… _Thank me._ ”

Hermione swallowed heavily, a bowling ball tumbling down her throat with her chin angled upwards. The professor’s dark orbs stared down at her, raw sexuality burning at their core. She slinked forward, her breasts hot against his chest. Severus pulled his robes around her, concealing her petite figure just as the witch pushed her hands up into his thick ebony hair. Kissing him full on the mouth, she let his touch slither down over her ass cheeks, clad in a pair of tight-fitting denim trousers.

“Thank me… _further_.” he urged as their lips parted. Hermione licked her lips, enjoying the taste of herbal tea swimming in her mouth. She dragged her hands down the front of his buttoned jacket, ending at the tops of his thighs. The sound of her professor sucking in his breath encouraged the witch to continue. Sneaking up beneath the hem of his jacket, she found the zipper to his trousers. It wasn’t hard to find, she discovered, as they were terrible at concealing his throbbing member.

Hermione sank down to her knees in the darkness of the professor’s robes, taking his cock firmly in her grip. She felt her nipples grow firm, the hair on her neck standing erect as she studied the anatomy before her. His girth might be large for her mouth, she thought. The length, on the other hand, she could handle. The shaft was defined with large roadways of veins leading to his prominent, rosy head. With confidence, the witch took him in her mouth, sucking in her cheeks. She swirled her tongue around his dick, adjusting to the salty, slightly sweet taste of him.

Above her, Severus gasped, closing his eyes while placing his hands on her head. As Hermione drove her head back and forth on his throbbing cock, he gathered her hair behind her head. The witch drove her head back and forth, consuming his full length. She felt the smoothness of his skin rake between her teeth, the professor tightening his grip on her curls. He pulled the makeshift ponytail taut, making her fight against him more pleasurable. Quickly, she withdrew her mouth, staring up at the professor.

“If you keep pulling my hair like that, I won’t have any left. I’ll let you pull it, but not out of my _fucking head_.” she snapped, proceeded to take him back in her mouth, down his length all the way to the hilt. His hands released her hair, now pressing her head between them. One final rake of her teeth towards his head, and he felt himself grow close.

“Get ready,” he moaned, closing his eyes for a brief moment. Severus let out a guttural groan, swiftly opening his eyes to look down at the young woman swallowing his seed like a greedy beggar. The witch slowly pulled away, wiping her mouth. She gently tucked the softening cock back into his trousers, zipping it away.

Hermione came to her feet quickly, pressing herself against Severus. Her eyes were wide, the sound of approaching footsteps startling her. “Where the fuck did your cloak go!?” She uttered beneath her breath harshly. Severus took the moment to wrap his arms around the girl, pulling her even tighter to him. He then spun her around, her hands reaching behind her to grab his thighs, fear roaring through her.

A group of Ravenclaw students rounded the corner, laughing and smiling with one another. One olive-skinned girl looked directly at Hermione, her eyes turning back to her friends. They continued on and the witch flipped back around to her professor.

“You son of a bitch! You could have told me that you’d casted a concealment charm!” Hermione swung her fist out, driving it directly into Severus’ chest. He let out a chortle, grabbing the witch, pinning her arms at her sides.

“Part of the fun is the fear of being caught… As you so eagerly... _demonstrated_ the other night.” Severus pressed his lips against hers with a heated hunger, tasting his cum still swimming in her mouth. He released the witch and she backed away, shaking her head as she leaned over to pick up her bag.

“You want to control me, but I have ground rules… _Sir_.” Hermione felt herself step out of the concealment charm’s field, watching Severus disappear. She began to storm off, wiping her mouth once again, still tasting the salt of his fluid. Shame colored her cheeks, the witch making her way towards the Gryffindor tower. She found the portrait of the Fat Lady, saying the password, and proceeded to crawl through the stone tunnel.

The common room as empty, she noticed thankfully. Hermione took off in a run towards the stairs leading to her dormitory, pushing through the door and racing to her bed. She flung herself on the red velvet blanket, letting her school bag drop onto the floor. Hermione sat up with her legs folded beneath her, staring blankly at the crackling fire in the center of the room. Another crack turned her head, and there before her stood Professor Snape.


	4. if you jump

“ _One_ , this is the girls’ dormitory. If one of them walks in, we're going to _both_ be in a serious mess. And _second,_ what you did to me was unacceptable. While I did consent to many things, I can’t trust you now.”

Severus slowly approached her, tucking his hands in the pockets of his black buttoned jacket. He nodded, silent and understanding. Gently, he eased himself onto her bed, sitting at the foot, his pale hands folded neatly in his lap. “You’re right. I fear we may have… Gotten into things too quickly.”

“I enjoyed them, though. Except your last trick… What were you thinking? Were you just going to treat me like a student? The one you’ve always detested?” she shook her head at the poisonous thought.

“That was not the idea. I assumed it would be an… escape. Something to be exciting and a surprise for us both.”

Hermione sighed, looking to her right at the window. Snow was falling in large clumps, a sign that the Christmas holiday was rapidly approaching. When she turned back to Severus, he had moved closer, his index finger outlining the shape of her ankle.

“We need to... Set boundaries.”

“Mmm… Yes. Perhaps we do.” He hummed, knitting his brow together.

“You’ve… You’ve never _done_ this before?”

Severus smirked, drawing his eyes up to hers. He extended his arm, his hand reaching out to caress the side of her face. He cupped her cheek in his palm, and then took her chin in his firm grip. “You dare question me?”

Hermione watched his eyes turn icy, a coldness racing down her spine. With her cheeks pressed towards her lips, she managed to shake her head.

“Good. Now, for boundaries. What will you...not do?” Severus released her, moving his hands to tug on the white sleeves beneath his jacket.

The witch thought for a brief moment, wiggling her jaw in an attempt to decrease the painful throb. “No truly public… anything. I have to know that even if we’re caught, we will still be concealed. I will not perform in front of an audience,” She started. “Nothing in the… in the ass. Not yet. And absolutely nothing to do with our… erm, bathroom needs.”

Severus nodded in understanding, standing at the edge of the bed. He shifted on his feet with his arms crossed over his chest. In the low firelight, the professor appeared like the shadow of death.

“I agree. On both of those… limits. Here are things I would like to do, if you _want_ to hear them.” Hermione sat up further in the bed, swallowing. Her heart began to race, realizing that the professor had been thinking of intimate moments between them. “I want to dress you up… In anything I choose. Is that permissible?”

“Yes.” Hermione responded.

“I want to tie you up. There are many ways to do this. Do you consent to the use of rope, chains, or leather?” His voice purred and Hermione became acutely aware of their mutual growing arousal.

“Nothing with my neck, but I do consent to bondage.”

Severus took a step towards the witch, who was perched with her spine erect in her bed. “Would you wear a corset?”

Hermione thought for a moment, biting the corner of her lip. Then, she looked up at the professor. “If I can control how tightly you lace it, then yes.”

“I want you...to call me sir.” He took another step forward, his fingers tracing along the edge of the velvet bed cover.

“Yes, sir.”

“What will your word be?”

Hermione glanced up at the professor, a befuddled look painted on her face. “What word?”

“You’ll need two. I will also have two. One is for _approaching_ a boundary, which… alerts your partner that they’re close to their limit. The second, is for... _breaking_ the boundary. It means stop...now.” He had crept closer to her, sliding his frigid hands along the inner seam of her denim trousers.

“Blue is my first… My warning word. And pear is my second.”

Severus retracted his hand from her clothing, tilting his head. “Pear?”

“My least favorite fruit. It was all that could come to mind. And blue is my second least favorite color.”

  
“Very well. Mine are willow, and October.”

Hermione stifled a laugh, and then stopped suddenly when she caught the look on Severus’ scowling face. “I’m assuming you won’t tell me the reason behind your choices?” Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised in hope.

“No.” He stated firmly, his lips taut. Silence wedged between them uncomfortably, Hermione blowing raspberries while Severus fiddled with the muggle alarm clock on her nightstand.

“Since you’ve ruined my day of studying thus far, what would you like to do with the rest of my day… Sir?” Hermione turned her head, like an owl looking behind at its prey, Severus just a glance over her shoulder. Her lips were twisted upwards into a seductive smirk.

“Perhaps we should practice playing... _within_ our boundaries.” his thick, unruly eyebrow arched towards his hairline. Severus reached for Hermione, taking her by the ankles to straighten her legs. She let out a shriek of excitement, watching as he began to unbutton her denim trousers and yanking them off of her. Silently, she thanked herself for selecting the dark purple knickers that morning, rather than the decrepit, full-bottomed pair she almost chose.

“Better hurry up, if we draw the curtains, no one will see us,” she urged, the wizard standing at her bedside, his hands taking a hold of the edge of her black sweater.

“You’re right. We’ll solve that,” Severus stated, gathering the witch’s trousers from the floor. He took her by the waist, turning her to straddle him on the edge of the bed.

Suddenly, they were disapparating, the dizzying sensation ringing in Hermione’s ears. When she opened her eyes, her legs were wrapped around the wizard’s waist, hands clasped behind his neck. As the pair settled into the new surroundings, her eyes did not leave his face; her gaze traveled over the rivers, valleys, and hills of his face. The parallel vertical lines in the shadow of his nose were the feature that drew her in the most.

“Are you going to keep staring at me, or are you going to kiss me?” He grumbled, staring with disappointment at her lips.

“I thought it was your job to do what you wanted to me…” Hermione let her tongue slip out over her bottom lip, her teeth following as they raked along the mauve, plump surface.

Severus’ nostrils were flared just before he hungrily plunger his lips against hers. He began to stumble with his eyes closed, but opened them for a brief moment to find a wall in his office. Hermione’s back was up against a wall of books, their spines against hers. Severus took his hands from her back, slipping down to take a handful of her supple thighs, lifting her up higher over his hips. As she began to slide down against his body, Hermione felt the familiar stiffness of his cock beneath her ass.  
As they bounced off various surfaces in the room, Severus sat the witch down on the top of his desk. Her sweater hung off one shoulder, the dim light radiating from the top of her skin. He narrowed his eyes as he looked her over.

“You’re not wearing a bra, are you?”

“No, sir.”

“Are you _wanting_ others to notice you?” He questioned, taking the top of her sweater in his fist.

“No, sir.” Her neck was straight, her jaw thrust outwards.

“Liar.”

“I assure you, it is not for attention. It’s merely for comfort… Besides, no one notices me _anyway_.” Hermione’s voice fell, as did her eyes. Severus took a hold of her sweater with both hands, pulling her towards him with the soft fabric.

“I...notice...you.” With one swift motion, her ripped through the sweater, revealing her bare chest. “Now… I want to tie you up and punish you. You deserve it for not wearing a bra. I expect you to wear one at all times, unless you are alone with... me.”

Hermione’s mouth spread into a smile and exhaled as if she had been holding her breath. “As you wish, sir.”


	5. it makes me scream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for making you wait so long... hopefully this makes up for it ;)

To her right, the crimson and orange flames leaped out of the cage of the fireplace. Hermione was sitting with her knees bent beneath her, wearing a pair of knickers and her sweater, the rope wrapping her ankles and wrists acting as jewelry. Despite the fire roaring beside her, Hermione felt extremely cold. However, it was the last thing on her mind.

Rested horizontally in her flat palms was something Hermione had never seen in person before. Her parents had utilized it many years earlier, when they taught her how to ride horses. The riding crop was long and slender, a smooth flexible paddle at the end. The weight of time was pulling her hands downwards towards the frigid stone floor, but she did not let it control her. Severus had given her one rule: Do not move her hands.

He had left nearly an hour earlier, the sound of his teaching robes fluttering behind him like a flag in the wind. Hermione’s mind had begun to wander in his absence. With the warmth of the fire, her eyes closed, and her head had started to bobble around. Instead of succumbing to sleep, the witch fantasized with great excitement.

 _What is he going to do to me?_ She wondered. _I know… He’ll lie me back on the floor, materializing a rug beneath us, and run his hands all over me, slowing over my most sensitive parts._

A chill avalanched down her spine.

_Then, he’ll take off my sweater and swirl his tongue around my nipple. His hot breath with run down to my belly button, and Severus will yank off my knickers in one rough pull._

Instinctively, Hermione clenched her thighs together, her neck tightening.

_Next, he’ll take control with the riding crop, dragging it up to tease me. It’ll lightly touch my nipples, then down to my belly button, and finally settle right between my legs._

The build-up of her imagination was enough to make her drop the riding crop, slipping her own fingers into her knickers.

But, she didn’t dare disobey Severus.

 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” The buzzing sound of silence in her ears was broken with Severus’s sugary voice. Her vivid picture faded, her eyes opening to look up at the man.

“No sir.” She answered honestly, nearly shivering. Her legs had grown numb beneath the rest of her body, the tips of her toes icy.

“Do you want to stop?”

“Yes sir.”

“Do you want to be rewarded for obeying me?” He stepped closer to her, the leather of his boots scrunching.

“Yes sir,” she whispered, a small plead at the back of her throat. This level of humiliation was uneasy, but Hermione’s cheeks flushed with the eroticism of it all.

“Would you like to me to show what I will do with this?” Severus plucked the riding crop from her hands, Hermione dropping her palms to the floor. The slender black leather object disappeared, no doubt being put away for Severus’ convenience.

“Yes sir.”

Warm, tender hands took a hold of her waist, lifting her to stand on her feet. The witch enjoyed the freedom of the movement of her ankles with the tight, irritating rope gone. Severus dropped his hands to his side, Hermione’s stabilization gone. She began to plummet to the floor, her legs not strong enough to hold her weight. In a swift movement, she was taken back into his embrace once more, his hands gripping her peachy-white skin just below her supple cheeks. His strength surprised Hermione, taking her petite frame and cradling her. As she laid her head against one of his lengthy shoulders, Hermione caught a curl of his lip.

“I am very surprised you were able to stay still for so long. You’ve never been able to do that in class.”

“Not all of your punishments have been this severe,” she replied, her nails running up the back of his neck into the thick web of raven hair.

“That is quite true. Perhaps I will implement this for others,” he smirked down at her, his black eyes sparkling. Severus dropped the witch onto a soft surface, her hands flailing outwards to steady herself. Hermione’s eyes raced about the room, inhaling its dank, earthy smell which permeated her senses.

Her body rested on a simple bench covered in a pale grey linen; she turned to look behind her and understood where she was. Hermione was in his bedroom… Snape’s bedroom. His bed hovered on the floor, a low black metal bed frame holding it inches above the dark wooden floor.  
In the dark distance across the room, Hermione watched as Severus ran his hands over a long wall covered in massive planks of wood. They were stained dark shades of hickory and walnut, their grain heavy and swirling. Severus began to drag his flat palms across the wall, hooks and chains appearing from the wood. With his job completed, the wizard moved back towards her, standing a few feet away.

“Come.”

Hermione obeyed, climbing swiftly to her feet to race to the spot Severus was pointing at with his erect index finger. He snatched her wrists with his hands, conjuring the same rope that had been around the very skin earlier. After wrapping it around the narrow joints, Severus took a hold of the rope at her wrists, pulling her behind him. She stumbled at the sudden jerking motion, but he continued to lead her nonetheless.

As they arrived beneath the hooks protruding from the wall, Severus breathed shakily, his mouth hung open with his crooked lower teeth exposed. The man weaved his fingers through the rope at her wrists, stretching her arms upwards. Hermione was on the tips of her toes, her ass pressed against the slick surface of the wall behind her. With one swift motion, he bent his knees, took a hold of her thighs with the embrace of one arm, and lifted her up into the air. Hermione felt his touch leave her, and she realized she was hanging from the hook. The irritating rope scratched at wrists, creaking against the metal above her.

  
Severus’ touch found her once again, his fingers painting over the hills of her hips, protruding from her body. She shivered, her nipples hardening beneath her loose-knit sweater. His wet tongue replaced his fingertips, dancing over the curves of her thighs, slipping behind her knees to toy at a long-forgotten spot. Hermione’s breath caught, and a subtle moan exited her lips just as Severus removed his tongue to conjure the rope for her ankles.

“I can’t have you kicking me, now can I?” One of his eyebrows raised suggestively towards the charcoal hair that hung in his face. Hermione clenched her eyes shut, leaving her legs dangling so that Severus could bind her ankles.

Severus took a deep breath, his shoulders rising, and he conjured the riding crop into his open hand. “Open your mouth.”

Hermione let her jaw reach down towards her chest, wide and prepared. Severus pressed the leather riding crop into her mouth, her teeth clamping down to hold it in. He removed his teaching robes, tossing it onto the floor. Next, he tore through his jacket, hundreds of buttons flying outwards and rattling about the room. The witch bit down against the handle, her eyes wide with excitement.

Standing before her, Severus wore a basic white buttoned shirt, long sleeves pointed at the wrists. He lifted his chin, one hand turned downwards to undo the buttons at his neck. With each and every movement, Hermione was allowed to soak in the reveal of his bare chest. Only a thin dusting of chest hair covered his pectoral muscles, his nipples small and petite. Hermione held back a moan when the shirt finally slipped off of his arms, floating to the floor to join his other clothes. In a smooth line, starting at the shallow divot of his belly button, black curly hair raced down to disappear beneath the brim of his trousers.

Her saliva had begun to drip out of the sides of her cheeks, running down over her chin and the handle of the riding crop. Severus approached, taking the leather from her mouth. He held it up to his own mouth and dragged his wide salmon tongue across its length. His bare chest brushed against the sliver of skin between her sweater and knickers, a shock rippling through Hermione’s body. His lips pressed against the hollow of her neck, his breath blowing upwards towards her ear. Desire spread through her, finding a resting place above her pubic bone.

He retreated, standing with his legs spread apart, nearly three feet away from her. The suspense was enough to nearly make the witch implode; Severus raised the riding crop in the air, drawing his arm behind his head. As he threw his hand towards her with the riding crop slashing like a knife in the air, the witch did not flinch. Nor did her eyes close. They burned with the heat and pure passion emulating from Severus. His chest heaved, his mouth closing to curl into a sensual smile.

“Did you think I would punish you in that way?”

“I was unsure, but I knew you would never bring me true harm.”

He nodded in response, his leather boots crunching when he stepped closer. “You’re correct.”

The cold of the leather crop slid up her legs, clammy with sweat. Hermione moaned, writhing with her hands and ankles bound. Severus’ eyes met hers, his upper teeth digging into his thin lower lip. A firm slap on her right thigh brought a small shriek from her, and then a pleasurable laugh.

“You like this?” Severus questioned, holding the riding crop vertically in front of her nose. Hermione nodded steadily. The crop clashed against the fabric of her sweater, striking one of her nipples. She drew her breath in, her eyes clenched shut.

Again, the riding crop thwacked her, but that time it landed on the other nipple. Hermione groaned, enjoying the stinging and then warm sensation that swirled around the areas in which Severus hit. To her surprise, the feeling of the riding crop was replaced with Severus’ touch, his index fingers hooking into her knickers and peeling them down to her ankles. Her eyes darted down, watching as the wizard stood erect, his eyes hovering over her mons.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his fingers running through the thin hair between her creamy legs. The air was cool as the breeze wafted when Severus parted her lips, placing his lips at her most sensitive spot. Hermione moaned, her voice echoing in the room. As his tongue swirled around her throbbing clitoris, Hermione had the strongest desire to break from her binding and touch him.

His lips left hers, the riding crop striking her mons. Hermione cried loudly in pleasure just as he struck her again... _harder._

And then suddenly, there was no touch on her body whatsoever. Hermione opened her eyes, watching as Severus pulled her knickers back up to cover her. “What...What are you doing?”

“This is what it’s like when you disobey me… And are indecent in front of others. You are giving them the pleasure of seeing you, when only… _I_ …should have the pleasure. Therefore, I am taking away _your_ pleasure.”

Hermione gasped, her eyebrows furrowing and her mouth turning to a frown. Severus took her around the waist, lifting her off the hook and placing her back onto the floor. She leaned against the wall, her heart still racing with the raw sexual buzzing inside her. He removed the rope from her wrists and ankles.

“Don’t touch yourself… Or do anything to reach an orgasm. And I’ll know if you do.”

Hermione groaned, taking her folded jeans from Severus, rolling her eyes.


	6. pet

Hermione reached across the table to pick up the pitcher of pumpkin juice, lifting her goblet to fill it to the brim. Ron sat beside her, his hand resting on her thigh, his fingers slipping below the seam of her denim trousers.

“I think we’ve got the match already; Hufflepuff doesn’t know what’s coming for them.” Harry stated, grinning widely, his rounded glasses pressed upwards with the lift in his cheeks. He was nestled beside Ginny, the successful Quidditch couple across from Ron and herself. Hermione raised her eyebrows in response, chewing the bite of moist pork loin she had just placed in her mouth.

It was the morning of one of the biggest matches of the term, between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, the team preparing nearly every evening. Over the last week, while her friends practiced, Hermione spent her evenings in the common room, her nose nestled in the pages of her Transfigurations book. The two weeks following her last visit with Professor Snape had been painfully long and arduous. Pouring herself back into her studies, and the duties of a proper girlfriend, Hermione had filled the celibate time well.

“Ron’s all bent about playing... again,” Ron’s sister started. “You know how he always gets before a match.”

“Really?” Hermione questioned. Ginny nodded in response, licking custard off of her spoon. Ron, however, remained silent. The witch rotated her head towards her partner, her eyes shifting with worry.

“You always do much better than you think you will, mate.” Harry boasted. “Ready Gin? We’ve gotta get down to the Quidditch pitch.”

Hermione’s eyes flashed up to Harry, shaking her head lightly, turning back to give her attention to Ron. Across from them, Harry and Ginny stood, leaving the long table. The Great Hall had begun to empty out, the students leaving to go about their free evening.

“I thought you were playing for fun--one last go before you finish the year, and go on to work?” Hermione asked Ron, scooting closer to him.

“Right. I know… But what-what if I make an absolute fool of myself? Everyone will mock me more than they already do.” Ron confided, looking sour as he poked at his food.

The witch slipped her hand over onto Ron’s leg, squeezing. He reciprocated the touch, his fingers driving upwards to her sensitive spot covered with her denim trousers. Hermione shifted on the bench and she felt the familiar sensual burning between her legs. She felt herself tighten as she turned towards Ron.

“Don’t let anyone get you down… You were a part of taking down Voldemort, single-handedly. If they’re mocking you, it’s because they’re envious. And… We chose to come back to school after the war to do what we wanted. You may not be talented in Quidditch, but there are so many other things you’re good at.” Hermione whispered in his ear, his ginger hair tickling her lips. She carefully positioned his buttery-soft ear lobe between her teeth, biting down gently. Ron inhaled sharply, a grin spreading across his face.

As she began to slip away, her vision cleared and focused on a dark object over Ron’s shoulder. Professor Snape was glaring at her, his arm folded with his fingers concealing his lips. His plate sat in front of him, full of food that had not been touched. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, holding his gaze. Snape finally broke it, pushing up from the table at the front of the hall. The wizard made his way down towards the double doors, his black robes scraping against the stone wall.

Hermione began to turn her attention back to Ron when the air suddenly grew stiff, the hair on her neck rising. A chill raced down her spine, the familiar feeling of the legilimens spell blanketing her. Snape was pressing into her thoughts, and she blocked him. Hermione was a talented occlumens, a worthy opponent to the skilled professor. The witch turned the other direction, looking to the open doors, searching for Snape.

“Are you alright?” Ron asked, his warm fingertips pressing on her cool wrist. The witch flipped back around, her springy curls bouncing.

“I just realized I left my bag in the library,” Hermione uttered absentmindedly towards her boyfriend. The witch’s attention was focused on the black figure hovering in the dark shadows of the hallway outside of the Great Hall. Her breath hitched, fighting the professor off; Hermione would not let him in.

“Uh, see you after the match?” Ron questioned, his brows bent downwards. Hermione nodded in reply, speeding out of the emptying room. The candles floating in the ceiling had begun to grow dim, bathing the long tables and benches in a pumpkin glow.

Hermione rounded the corner, her fists clenched at her sides of her swaying grey skirt. Severus was tucked in a deserted alcove which bordered the area containing the changing staircases. He stood against the stone wall, a single eyebrow arched and his arms crossed, his hands hidden beneath his silky black robes.

“Don’t do that again.” Hermione pressed, scowling up at the professor.

“Something to hide?”  
Shaking her head in disbelief, Hermione let her eyes dust over the sharp features of his cheekbones and nose. “Somethings are meant to be private. If there’s something you’d like to know, I’ll happily tell you. But, I’m not an open book. Just as you are not.”

“You’re frustrated... sexually. I can sense it from here.”

“I’m not! All I wanted was for you to know that I didn’t appreciate you attempting legilimency on me!” Hermione retorted, crossing her arms. As she grew angrier, she had also stepped closer. Within inches of him, she could feel his hot breath flutter over her face and down her neck. His scent filled the air, nestling itself in her nostrils; Severus’ aroma was an ever-changing mix of eucalyptus and mint.

“You’ve been good. Not one climax for two weeks? What does your poor boyfriend think?”

“Don’t talk about him,” Hermione said. “He doesn’t care about me. Never really has. But he’s not here, and I’m not comfortable bringing him into this situation.”

Severus shrugged his shoulders, his lower lip rolling outwards with a laissez-faire attitude. “Very well. I think you need to be rewarded. Hmm?”

Hermione’s nipples hardened beneath her sweater, her thoughts traveling back to his dungeon. “I can’t. There’s the quidditch match today and I’m expected to go.”

“To support your boyfriend?”

Hermione nearly uncrossed her arms and shoved the professor against the wall. Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood. “To go and cheer on my friends. I want them to win.”

Snape stepped closer to the witch, place his palm against the wall above her to block her from leaving. Hermione inhaled sharply, her eyes meeting his black orbs, narrowed.

“What do I have to do to make you stay?” He questioned, taking his index finger and tracing it down the side of her face tenderly. Then, his hand gripped her throat. Just enough to make her nipples stiffen once again, the feeling reciprocated in her groin as she felt her panties grow moist.

“There’s nothing you can say.”

The witch hurriedly ducked beneath his arm, darting out of the alcove to rush up the common room. After she dressed herself warmly, Hermione stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, smoothing her unruly hair down. Then, she decided on a red stocking cap to slam over her curls and help with the frizz.  
As she nestled herself between Neville and Luna, Hermione rubbed her gloved hands together. She had brought a blanket, and decided to spread it out across their laps. The viewing tower was jam packed for the match, one of the last few before the Christmas holiday.

“I quite like the cold weather,” Luna mumbled, her voice flighty.

“I only like it if there’s snow on the ground.” Hermione replied, shivering. The cold night was damp, smelling of musty leaves and grass. She turned her head to her right, a hint of heat running down her spine.

Severus, who was seated in the next tower, beside Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Flitwick, glared at her. His eyes were slitted, his mouth drawn into a downward curve. Hermione shook her head and faced forward to watch the match.

 

 

 

 

“Weren’t you quite the cheerleader up there,” a slithering voice caught her, drawing her away from her journey back towards the castle. The evening air had been just what the witch had needed, enjoying a night watching her friends play quidditch. She was nearly at the castle, her leather boots crunching on the gravel beneath them.

“I’m happy they won. They deserved it, Ron especially. He’s been working towards this.”

Severus emerged from the shadows of a tree, strolling towards her. “You said he doesn’t care about you. And yet, you support him and cheer him on?”

“Do I detect a sense of jealousy?” The witch raised an eyebrow. Severus scoffed in response, now just a few inches away from her.

“ _Jealous?_ Of the Weasley boy?”

“He has me.” Hermione proceeded to move past Severus, but his hand reached out and grabbed a hold of her forearm. His fingers wrapped completely around it, lurching her to him.

“I have you.”

“You said yourself that you weren’t capable of love. I also assumed this meant our relationship wouldn’t be traditional. Was I wrong to assume that?” She slipped her arm out of his grasp, her hand up to his cheek to smooth away a strand of hair from his face. He shivered beneath her smooth touch, his eyes fluttering shut.

“No. I cannot give you anything that Weasley has. But I can give you so much more.”

  
“We’ve already had this conversation. I agreed to it. So, why are we revisiting it?”

“Ronald Weasley isn’t any good for you.”

“That’s not a good reason. Why can’t we drop this?” Hermione questioned.

“Because I don’t want you to be with him!” Severus shouted, his hands reaching towards Hermione as she jumped away from him. He let out a heavy sigh, his head hanging low.

The witch stepped away, turning and making her way up to the entrance of the bridge. “You’ve certainly made yourself clear.”

“You make me want to be possessive.”

“Well come on then, be possessive tonight. Take me to your dungeon and finally reward me, you fucker.”


	7. suffocate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is literally just all smut. #you'rewelcome

“Take off all of your clothes.” Severus ordered as soon as they got into his private study, closing the door behind him swiftly. 

Hermione obeyed, tossing her things into a pile on top of a leather chair before his desk. Severus stepped closer, his shoulder brushing with hers as he circled her, inspecting. The witch shivered; without her clothes the cool air in the warm bit at her skin. 

“Open your mouth.” 

Something hard, yet soft was wedged between her teeth and fastened around her head. Hermione soon realized she was being gagged, a sensation she didn’t particularly enjoy. He stood in front of her, holding up his black neck scarf at the level of her eyes. Then, pitch black. 

Her wrists were bound as well, rope digging and pinching into the skin. With her hands bound behind her, Severus took a hold of them and pulled her away from her spot. She was unsure of her whereabouts, yet her feet still on the cool stone floor. A hand was at the nape of her neck, weaved through her thick curls.

“Bend over. Put your chest against the surface.” 

Hermione obeyed once again, her bare breasts pressing against a soft, curved surface. Her hair had flipped itself, hanging down into her face. With her vision temporarily stolen, she had to rely on all of her other sense. 

His touch, fiery against her skin, started at her ankles. Something wet, she realized it was his tongue, dragged itself upwards towards her knee. He spent time at the bend in her leg, his tongue whipping around the long-forgotten, sensitive skin. Hermione’s senses were all heightened; her ears were filled with his creaking leather boots. The fire crackled as logs shifted, rain had begun to patter against the window. Her breath became ragged as his hands now slid along her skin, goose flesh no doubt appearing. The witch moaned, the sound muffled by the ball gag in between her teeth. 

“That’s right my princess, enjoy this.” His princess. She reveled in this, glowing from within. Part of her was torn, still frustrated at his possessiveness, but the other half of her felt worth in it. 

His hands each got their own ass cheek, squeezing and massaging the supple form. Severus kissed both cheeks before his lips found her wet lips. Hermione moaned, saliva dripping out of her mouth onto the desk. His tongue flicked over her asshole, tight and ready for what he had prepared. Then, there was nothing but a soft breeze that signaled he had stepped away.

Hermione moaned again, but this time, it was in question. She had been building up her excitement, ready for whatever Severus was preparing. But, she feared he was withdrawing to punish her. 

“Fear not, my love. When I make a promise to reward you, I always follow through.” His hot breath raced over her ear, and Hermione bent her neck backwards in pleasure. A hot cracking sound surprised her, not the burn that followed. Her ass stung after being thwacked with an open hand. 

He spanked her once again, her legs trembling beneath her. They were growing weak, the anticipation of her reward enough to make her fall to the ground. 

“Are you ready?” Hermione nodded incessantly, turning her head despite the fact that she couldn’t see him. Then, she felt his hands at the back of her head, unfastening the gag ball. 

“Yes sir.” She interjected, her mouth wet with slobber. Severus removed the blindfold, standing the girl up straight. He knelt down, turning the witch around to remove the binding at her wrists. 

“I’m going to fuck you senseless, and then I’m going to make love to you.” Severus, still fully clothed, picked up the witch in his arms, carrying her towards the fire. They floo’d to his chambers, the wizard rapidly approaching the bed as he dropped her onto the surface. Hermione watched in anticipation as he shredded his clothes, crawling over her as his lips found hers. 

“God, you taste so good,” Hermione whispered, feeling his hard cock press against her belly. 

“Silence, witch. On your hands and knees.” 

Hermione obeyed, ready for his massive dick. “Yes, sir.” 

He plunged into her, crying out as he bottomed out inside of her tight cunt. Hermione moaned, letting him have the reigns. Suddenly, her vision went black. 

“What!?” She groaned, realizing Severus had put the blindfold back on. 

“I want to deprive you of this, so that you enjoy everything else I have to offer.” He thrust against her a few more times before he laid her on her back, slithering down beneath her belly to begin to lick her dripping wet slit. Crying out, the witch gripped the pillowcase beneath her head, her core clenching. “Don’t you dare come yet.” 

Hermione stopped herself from climaxing, focusing on the sensation of the circular motions his tongue made over her throbbing clit. He retracted himself, then plunged his cock back inside of her. His lips pressed against her neck, their chests flush against the other. 

“Oh, yes!” Hermione exclaimed, her nails digging into his back as her legs wrapped around his hips. 

“Enjoy me… Feel me... “ 

Hermione could hardly stand it, and just as she was about to reach the highest point of ecstasy, she decided to flip Severus onto his back and use him for her selfish pleasures. She rode him, her hands gripping his shoulders as her breasts bounced. She could feel Severus begin to clench, his hands on her hips squeezing her tighter. They tumultuously spiraled into their own orgasms, Severus spilling his seed inside of the little witch.


End file.
